Thursday, May 28, 2009

Yep, Ted is back with two brand-new episodes. And she's as incredulous as ever as The Guy Who Talks To Ted pays her another antagonizing visit at her desk in one episode, and dreams about her in the other, much freakier, much stranger episode. I recommend watching the latter after taking two Smints, putting one under the tongue and one in the anus. That's a Smint in the pink, and a Smint in the stink.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Again I ask you, who the hell is buying these things? Sure, the horse makes more sense than the life-size football player. But this is still a part of town, Chinatown that caters largely to tourists. That means they must ship their 850-lb bronze horse back home to Xenia, Ohio. Who the hell would do that? The fine residents of Xenia shouldn't have to tolerate old "Hi-Ho Bronzer, Away!" on their streets.

But I think I'm beating around the bush and avoiding the real issue here.

There are drugs stuffed up this horse's ass. There's no other explanation. That's how this store can keep a constant flow of giant, tacky bronze statues in and out and shipping all over the world. Yep, drugs up the asses.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

As I walk through Chinatown on my way to and from work each day, I pass many shops specializing, whether they acknowledge it or not, in what can only be described as "odd curiosities". Now most of these curiosities are cheap little knickknacks, aimed at tourists. You've got your rice hats, your plastic swords and your snap pops.

And then there are the life-sized bronze statues.

There's the classic life-sized bronze lion.

This one I guess I could understand as a gift for the curator of the Art Institute in Chicago. Or if you're buddies with the Emperor of the Ming Dynasty.

Then there's the life-sized bronze bench, complete with bronze kids.

Uh... What's going on here? I ordered a bench. You know, for sitting. Why would you permanently affix bronzed children onto the center of the bench, the part most likely to support my ass? This is kinda creepy. You didn't just Han Solo some innocent children at rest, did you? If so, selling this bench is an extremely risky way to cover up your heinous crime.

And just the other day, I passed this statue.

You gotta be shittin' me. That's what I said to myself as I fumbled in my pocket for my iPhone to a) snap this picture and b) call my priest to tell him hell had bronzed over. Whichever metallurgy whiz came up with this one was tragically unfamiliar with the buying habits of American sports fans.

The thing is, these things cannot be cheap. Yet, judging by the frequency with which they're unloaded from delivery trucks each week, they're selling like hotcakes. Monstrous, metallic, eyesores of hotcakes.

But I guess that's the good news. If people are using their disposable (quite disposable in this case) income on these abominations (abronzinations?), we've gotta be pulling out of this whole recession/depression thing.